


Web

by Yearnmien



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cannibalism, Cults, Other, like not. AWFULLY but its weird, please read note, some written gore, tbh this ones a little fucked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:13:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24541372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yearnmien/pseuds/Yearnmien
Summary: An unknown author (maybe you if you want it to be idk) quietly regrets their choices of falling into the widows web so easily.(CW for implied cannibalism, written gore, and cults! also maybe religion but it's like. fictional, it aint real. also yes I know the cult leader sounds like he's a dumbass and thats bc he is)
Kudos: 2





	Web

**Author's Note:**

> (CW for implied cannibalism, written gore, and cults! also maybe religion but it's like. fictional, it aint real. also yes I know the cult leader sounds like he's a dumbass and thats bc he is)
> 
> sometimes you just wanna write a fic abt an ARG idea you had

I stared past the flames and into the eyes of the figure that sat on the other side. His eyes were focused into the embers, as though he was staring into the very soul of the blaze. The others sat around the inferno had smiles on their faces as they talked and laughed with one another. I couldn’t quite catch their conversations but it seemed like they were just..interacting like normal people, talking about their families, faiths, beliefs. I felt like I was hearing a coffee shop and was physically somewhere distant, like a different world or a daydream. 

I would never daydream of a place like this though. 

We were in the middle of a field, wheat grew all around us, us in a small cut out patch. The sky was clear aside from it being spotted with stars, small clouds drifting by silently, passively. There was a forest in the distance, I thought I saw a deer on the outskirts of it a few minutes ago. A doe with its mother, observing us, distantly I wondered if I was more curious about it than it was of us. 

There was no sign of civilization for miles, creating such a feeling of this being the only place I knew. This being the only place of life, the only people left, the only option left. It was staying here, watching all of the pain and agony that was cruelly twisted with joy and happiness, or it was being alone, dying alone. It felt saddening, it felt like an awful fate, it made me feel like prey stuck in a widow’s web.

My attention turned back to the fire, a body hung over the blaze, charred in some places, pale pink in some others. They were thin but the group didn’t care, it was something, something to keep hold of desire for some time until the next one. It was an event that happened at least 2 times a week, sometimes as many as 4 times, sometimes there was a brief pause where mercy would be shown. Most times, there were two bodies the next time they met up. 

They never had any heads up of when these meet-ups would happen. When you were a part of this group you had to check the mail every day and look for a letter, saying that the meeting would be tonight. Most people within the party lived alone because of this, it was safer to not have to worry about someone finding the letter and getting far too curious for their own good. Then again, these meet-ups fought away the sadness that loneliness brought upon the mind.

The man just beyond the flames finally stood, pushing himself up off the ground with a small sigh passing his lips. The embers and moonlight illuminated his figure, though there was nothing new to be seen there. Everyone here wore something of a uniform, corresponding to some unspoken ranks. Granted, as far as I knew there were only three, maybe four but, I didn’t believe in it. The uniforms were simple, they were mostly just something that didn’t make you stand out and made identification just a little harder if you covered your face.

The people sitting around the fire -which included me- wore pale, ghostly long dresses. They were simple, draping over the figure and hanging just above most people’s ankles. They had sleeves which for some just barely let the tips of their fingers be shown. The collar, a peter pan, matched the pale white of the rest of the gown. Most people didn’t wear bracelets or necklaces here but, I had seen some, and the ‘leader’ didn’t seem to care.

Then there were an extra four who sat further away, they spoke in hushed voices, unheard over the crackling of the fire and chatter from those around it. They wore black shirts and thick, tough coats over them, and heavy boots with jeans. They looked by far the most normal, if it weren’t for the partial masks and bracelet around their arm. While it was unspoken I assumed it was some form of identification, as they looked similar to each other. 

Then, finally, the leader. He wore a tunic with a shawl over top of it. You could almost say he looked normal, if not for the mask and crown. The crown looked about the same way one made by a child would, so much so I briefly wondered if he had one. The mask itself was simple, showing only his eyes while covering the rest of his face. I was unsure of why he wore it, but judging by the small glimpses at the edges of his face I’d gotten, something bad happened.

The crown had some meaning to it, so did the mask. It was another symbol of his status. This group believed in these gods, I couldn’t remember their names yet but I could remember that as far as he told us, they were beyond our comprehension. They were powerful beings, multiple of them. Some of them had yet to be born but over the weeks he grew more and more excited as he announced that one would be coming soon. They were the being of loss, the being of sadness, isolation, manipulation. It sounded like him but his health seemed fine. 

He told us that he was something of a lesser form of them, the gods in general. I assumed he was a prophet at first but over time I learned he saw himself as more than that, he saw himself as some sort of demigod. The crown showed his power. The mask was blank aside from a painted on red eye, granted most times it was either partially or fully obscured by his bangs. While he never said it aloud, I assumed it just meant that he knew -or seen- much more than we had. The mask showed he was knowledgeable.

His eyes always seemed to grab my attention, for someone who spoke with such fervent enthusiasm they seemed..saddened, maybe disinterested. I never got a very good look at them but, I thought they were blue, the kind of blue that makes you think of the ocean with the horizon hidden behind thick fog. His skin seemed pale as well, not to mention his figure was incredibly thin, with little muscle to talk about. However, I knew far too well by now that he was strong, or at least clever enough to come off as that. 

I’d watched him pull skin from bone with some level of ease, granted there was always some struggle. I’d witnessed him pull organs from inside a rib cage, teeth from the jaw, eyes from their sockets. Everyone here liked him too much to double cross him, he seemed kind and faithful, but I was far too scared that I’d end up like one of those he pulled apart if I were to do that. He made sure that people here knew he was in charge in subtle ways, the reason he ripped some poor sap apart in front of us all was to make sure we knew that, that was one of the few things I was sure of. 

My mind came as a plate was set down in front of me, everyone else had their own plate, which they gladly dug into. I wasn’t hungry but I knew it’d be rude for me not to partake, not when I was so lucky I’d gotten the thigh. Over the weeks I felt my sanity slowly slip away from me, as I became more and more like the others. I’d begun to isolate myself more and more, the only time I got out was for groceries and when I went to work, even then I never spoke to someone unless I had to. Worse I’d grown more and more desensitized, to the point that sometimes, seated at home, I’d find myself thinking about the taste of flesh once more. 

I knew I couldn’t escape from this now, I knew there was no way I could turn back. Perhaps I’d been doomed from the moment I first joined, granted I’d started to forget when that’d happened. All I knew was that I was nothing more than a small, pitiful bug, and the widow was home.


End file.
